


Hard Waves At Dawn

by Morpheus626



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25909006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: A random snapshot with the trans reader from You Send Me and Freddie. Blame me listening to the album Goths by The Mountain Goats for the first time tonight for this one. I try and save certain albums until the right moment, and it seems this was the right one for it. Listen to it, in order, to get the vibe of this fic. Title comes from the song on there titled ‘Wear Black.’Ngl, very deep in my own mind and thoughts of the future as I wrote this. It probably shows, but that’s par the course for my writing now I fear lol.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Hard Waves At Dawn

“I won’t make you come home.” 

The rain poured, and you jumped at the loudness of the thunder. “You shouldn’t have to.” 

Freddie shrugged, and scooted closer to you on the stone bench. The park was empty except for the two of you; everyone else had run home as soon as the rain had started to come down fast enough to hurt. 

“That’s it?” 

He nodded. “I know that, and you know it. What more is there to say about it?” 

“Maybe not more to say about that,” you replied. “But what about everything else?” 

You let his arm slip around you and pull you close. “I think you need to talk about that. Or you wouldn’t have gone running out here before I was even awake.” 

You had left the flat you shared with Freddie at five in the morning, in a daze. You weren’t sure exactly what had set it off this time, and it was an impulse you usually ignored or were able to repress. The one that made you panic for the future, left you pacing the flat over things that were arguably not worth worrying about as much as you did, made you feel like taking night walks that never ended, not caring where you might end up or if you’d make your way back home again.

You were in clothes that normally never left the house, clothes that were Lounge About the House and Do Nothing category. You didn’t look wildly out of place to anyone else, but you knew it was a sign to Freddie.

He didn’t indulge these moments, exactly. He accepted them, and rode them out with you, and occasionally gave advice or distractions if you requested or seemed to need it. But most of the time, it was this. Finally prompting that vat of nonsense and fear and pain and sadness that had settled into some sort of aching black hole in your chest before you could recall knowing what depression even was, to spill.

“It’s stupid,” you muttered, and he chuckled. 

“Good start.” 

“It is though,” you protested. “This is what I’ve wanted. Stability. I’ve worked towards it since I was like...fourteen. And never had it, never had it, couldn’t reach it, wasn’t qualified for it, couldn’t afford it, all that. And now here it is, and it’s fine, and my dumb fucking head is still like this.” 

He didn’t speak, but took your hand in his, rubbing gently at it with his thumb. 

“What am I waiting for? Why do I feel like the other shoe is going to drop? The shoes are on and tied and I’m waiting to trip. And for what? Why? Why can’t I just be happy all the time? It isn’t always like this, it recedes like the tide but when it comes back I-” 

The rain washes the tears off your face as fast as they can fall. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Freddie asked. “I think a lot of us are doing that, in one way or another.” 

“But it’s like I’m doubting this good thing I have, from you to my job to everything-” 

“Not on purpose,” he interrupted. “The mind clicks along, and doubt is a track it falls on from time to time. I know you don’t seriously doubt us, or your job with the band. Do you know how I know that?” 

You shook your head.

“Because you don’t leap for things that feel like too big of a risk unless you see enough security available in the thing you’re leaping towards. You would never have so much as kept looking my way, or stayed on with us, if you didn’t feel secure despite any little doubts or fears that any rational person might have from time to time.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but he shushed you softly. 

“Y/N. You turned down an ice cream yesterday because you were afraid it might have something you were allergic to in it. We had a full list of ingredients, but because the shop couldn’t verify how current it was, you left without anything. If you can turn away from something that simple, don’t you think you would have been long gone by now, if you had true doubts about anything else in your life right now?” 

“...you make a good point,” you acknowledged. 

“Every now and again,” he smiled, the small shy smile that came around only when he was being vulnerable. He looked even more gorgeous than usual when he wore it. “And you know what?” 

“You have doubts too?” 

“All the fucking time,” he sighed. “The work on the next album alone! You’ve heard me, hell you’ve worked me through some of those fits-” 

“Not fits, exactly,” you interrupted.

“Tantrums?” he asked with a grin.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you said with a smile. “Or I’ll have to kiss you and replace them with something else.” 

He kissed you anyway, and the scent of his usual cologne mixed with the rain smelled like the home you had always wanted, dreamed of, yearned for, worked so damn hard to get that you couldn’t believe you’d let your mind trap you into any worries about it. 

You leaned into his embrace, wincing only a little as the rain somehow fell harder. “I’m sorry I left without leaving a note or anything. I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“Out of everyone,” Freddie said. “You are one of the few people I don’t worry about leaving me out of the blue. And I could tell last night you were feeling a bit...how to put it? Twitchy isn’t the right word-” 

“Like there was an itch in my brain I couldn’t scratch,” you filled in. 

“Exactly,” Freddie said, pushing his wet hair away from where it just barely touched his forehead. “Were we due for a storm?” 

“Maybe,” you replied. “I certainly was, apparently.” 

“It had been a couple of months,” Freddie nodded. 

“God, you’ve got my depression cycle mapped. We’re domestic,” you laughed. “I love it, though I don’t love that I have something like that you have to keep track of.” 

“Don’t have to keep track of it,” he said. “I do it because I want to make sure you’ve got support whenever it hits. How long did you deal with it alone, or with minimal support? You’ve got me, and the boys, and so many others now. It would be more than a shame, it would be a crime, to care about you and not be mindful of this.” 

He held a hand up before you could speak. “And before you go on with that ‘but I can’t expect others to take care of me all the time’ talk, I know. That’s not our goal, and I think you know that. But I also think you’re afraid of it sometimes, because you’ve not had anything like it before. Support, not to hold you up 24/7, but to help carry you when you need it, and you do the same in return. Equal give and take.” 

You nodded. “You are an exceptionally wise man, you know that?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I try, same as anyone else.” 

“You underestimate yourself with things like this,” you said. “You don’t do it with anything else. The rest of the persona the confidence flows, but you sell yourself short here. You shouldn’t.” 

“You do the same thing,” he said with a smirk. “Can’t argue that anymore than I can, can you?” 

“No wonder we get on so well,” you said. “Perfectly capable until we’re vulnerable in the rain, and then it all melts away.” 

He nods. “It’s nice though, isn’t it? To have someone to let the mask down around so severely. No need to hang onto it, in case someone walks in the room that would make you bring it back up.” 

“It really is,” you sighed. “I think it’s hailing a bit.” 

He brushed a hand through his dampened curls, and melting pea-sized pebbles of ice shook out. “It is definitely hailing.” 

“We should almost definitely go home,” you murmured. “I haven’t seen any lightening, but probably not safe all the same.” 

“You can’t tell me that you’ve never wanted to be out in a storm like this, in one of these moments of yours,” Freddie said. “Why not give it five more minutes?” 

“And if lightening shows up, and hits us?” 

“Then I hope they leave the burned outline of our corpses here on this bench as a memorial,” Freddie said with a cheeky grin. 

“Me too,” you said. “I wouldn’t mind a death and a memorial like that.” 

“Better than some, and certainly as good as some others,” Freddie nodded. “You know you’re going to be fighting a cold off after this, right?” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You’ve already bought me cans of my favorite soup, haven’t you?” 

“Two days ago, had Brian pick them up and bring them by,” Freddie replied. “He asked how I could possibly know.” 

“And you told him not to worry about it, and that he’d get it some day?” 

“Bless, you’ve got my most cryptic answers down to a T,” he said. “That was exactly it. Bet you can’t guess the rest of my master plan though.” 

“To make me soup for the next three days, and keep me sat resting on the couch, except for when we’re napping together in the bed?” 

“Almost all of it,” he said. “You missed the bit where I make sure we get a walk outside in. The sun will help, and I know you won’t go out without me.” 

“Thank you,” you said, jumping at an even louder clap of thunder. “There has got to be lightening nearby.” 

“Maybe,” he agreed. “And for what? The soup? That was nothing, really.” 

“All of this,” you said, pressing your face into the wet material of his jacket near his neck. “Taking care of me. Being with me. Loving me despite this stupid shit my brain does, that I can’t always rein in as well as I’d like.” 

“It’s good work,” he said. “Work I like. Because you do the same work for me. It’s steady, and it all evens out, even when everything else is...decidedly less so.” 

“The ebb and flow of the tide, and the two of us as the typhoon,” you murmured. 

“You should do something with that,” he said. “I like it.” 

“You know I don’t write like that anymore.” 

“But you could. Write it down when we get home, just in case. You never know what you’ll find to do on the side in between tours, after all,” he said, and stood slowly, only to duck down as larger hail started to drop hard and fast, as if someone in the sky had overturned a huge bucket of it. “Shall we go now, before you forget it?” 

“I think better we leave so we don’t end up with bruises,” you laughed, taking his hand as you stood. “I’m ready to go home.” 


End file.
